


i'm just learning to hold you (in a sleeping world)

by CoffeeAndArrows, moonlitprincess



Series: when you figure out (love is all that matters after all) [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Season/Series Finale, Post-season 7, this one's just pure fluff guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26441299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndArrows/pseuds/CoffeeAndArrows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitprincess/pseuds/moonlitprincess
Summary: She feels safe. It's the first thing that comes to mind, and perhaps most surprisingly of all, the thought doesn't terrify her. There'll be time for that later - she knows it'll come. But for now Daisy rolls over, the comforting weight of Sousa's arm remaining in place around her waist.He looks more at ease now he's asleep, less like he stepped straight out of the past. His hair has curled slightly and fallen onto his forehead but she leaves it there, resisting the urge to reach up and gently brush it away. He looks… sweet. Comfortable. He'sstill here.or, the morning after (but not That morning after)
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Series: when you figure out (love is all that matters after all) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885618
Comments: 8
Kudos: 96





	i'm just learning to hold you (in a sleeping world)

**Author's Note:**

> so like everything else in this series, this oneshot is only connected in that it happens in my and chim's post season 7 timeline - *but* it does directly follow on from [we all need someone to stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018296) if you want to give that a read first
> 
> this is legit just some pure self indulgent fluff because daisy has been through a lot and hasn't had much time to process it all and deserves to find some happy moments now the team have saved the world, so, enjoy!
> 
> title from 'sleeping world' by vancouver sleep clinic

She wakes up first, and he's still fast asleep beside her. She didn’t expect him to have snuck away in the night, but even so the feeling of his chest, solid and warm against her back, is more reassuring than any words could ever be.

She feels safe.

It's the first thing that comes to mind, and perhaps most surprisingly of all, the thought doesn't terrify her. There'll be time for that later - she knows it'll come. But for now… Daisy rolls over, the comforting weight of Sousa's arm remaining in place around her waist. 

He looks more at ease now he's asleep, less like he stepped straight out of the past. His hair has curled slightly and fallen onto his forehead but she leaves it there, resisting the urge to reach up and gently brush it away. He looks… sweet. Comfortable. He's  _ still here. _

Daisy tucks her face into his chest, smile fixed in place as she drifts back to sleep.

  
  


She's asleep in his arms when he wakes, the fears and panic from the night before taken by the darkness, at least temporarily. He's not foolish enough to believe that their simple conversation will be enough to reassure her he'll stick around, but his actions… perhaps they can prove a thing or two. He presses the lightest of kisses to the top of her head, lingering so he can commit the moment to memory.

He can't keep his eyes off her. He's seen her asleep before - passed out from pain after being experimented on, resting in the futuristic healing pod he still doesn't understand, fast asleep on the Quinjet floor, curled up on the couch in the Lighthouse at the end of a long night, safe enough surrounded by the people she loves that she's willing to close her eyes. He has never seen her like  _ this  _ though. Never this relaxed.

She's beautiful like this, with a gentle smile on her face and the weight of the world finally lifted from her shoulders. She's calm. She's peaceful. She's breathtaking.

  
  


When Daisy wakes for a second time she can feel his eyes on her, just watching. It feels warm. It feels  _ right. _ She's not quite present yet, a comfortable half asleep haze hovering over her, but she embraces it. There's nothing to get up for, so they can stay like this for as long as they want. 

(Forever.)

She didn't see this coming, not at all. It was impossible to predict, a complete anomaly, an accident so perfect that it left her in awe of the complicated tangled strings of fate. She's not sure he would understand if she tried to explain how much him being here means, so she won't try. She's not even sure she could manage it, not without spilling every secret she has spent years holding back, every loss and heartbreak and rejection. Now's not the time for that. (He would listen though, she thinks, just like he had that first night back at the Lighthouse. He would catch her, if she wobbled too close to the ledge.)

His lips are soft against her hair, and she can't help but exhale slowly and let the hypotheticals fall away.

"Morning," he says softly, that early morning roughness she's heard only a few times before audible now. She smiles against his chest, drawing the moment out. She likes having him here. 

She rolls back a little so she can look up, meeting his eyes, his smile just as gentle as she knows her own to be. 

  
  


“Hey.”

She smiles as she greets him, looking comfortable in his arms. Comfortable with him in her bed. And, thankfully, far less on edge than she had been the night before - perhaps the reassurance he had offered had been good enough for now after all. 

He doesn’t understand - he  _ can’t _ understand, not really, not without knowing her past - what it’s like for her to be losing her team after all this time. Everyone he left behind in the 1950s is gone, sure, lost to time and distance, but even so… he has nothing to compare Daisy’s fear to, since any teams he had been a part of whilst working for the SSR had been simply for work. Here… he’s only spent a short amount of time around these people, but it had taken him less than a day to figure out that the bond they had with each other was far deeper than simply colleagues or friends. Daisy had called them her family, the only real family she had ever had.

Daisy’s eyes are still fixed on his, and his mind drifts to the names she had listed the night before - Miles, Ward, Lincoln. Her parents. Foster families. People she had expected to stick around, people she had desperately hoped wouldn’t leave. 

No, he can’t understand, not yet.

But he can be here. 

  
  


She sits up in bed, the covers falling to her rest at her knees, the loose t-shirt she had slept in slipping to expose her collarbone. She sees Sousa’s eyes trail across her bare skin, nothing if not respectful. She hadn’t been sure he  _ would s _ tay the night before, but having him here now, lying in bed beside her and gazing at her like  _ that _ …

She runs her hand over her face, trying to take it all in.

None of the reasons she had argued with him the night before had gone, so she couldn’t explain why this felt okay, but it did. The uncertainty causing her to waver had faded, for now. He was distracting her and reassuring her all at once, without realising he was doing either

  
  


He doesn’t say anything, giving her time to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. She’d been exhausted the night before - a combination of lack of sleep on the previous nights and the whirlwind of emotions she’d just released - and they’d fallen into bed quickly. He had let his presence do the talking, let his touch reassure her, let her curl up in his arms and seek whatever comfort she required. Now, she seems to be piecing it all back together.

Her eyes are tired and lighty rimmed in red, the only remaining evidence of her tears the night before, and yet he still finds himself captivated. Her hair is falling out of the messy bun she had tossed it into, loose tendrils resting against her skin. Her  _ skin.  _ Her teasing is usually over the top, her assumptions about the contrasts between the 1950s and the present day deliberately hyperbolic, but he still hasn’t gotten used to the amount of skin she was willing to show. When sparring, he has learnt not to let it distract him, but now… lying in bed beside her, it’s impossible not to notice her neck, her collarbones, her barely covered shoulders. 

Every time he thinks he can’t fall any further, she proves him wrong.

“Thank you,” she says eventually, the simple words holding more depth than he can process. 

He props himself up on one elbow, pouring the affection he wishes he had a better way to express into his eyes. “Anytime.”

  
  


He means it. That’s the thing about Daniel Sousa - he’s genuine, always. He’s just… solid. 

Reliable.

And he’s smiling; if the timing was better she’d be tempted to lean in and kiss him. Instead she reaches out, not realising what she’s doing until her fingers are combing lightly through his hair, the instinctive gesture taking them both by surprise. She’s barely known him for any time at all. She hasn’t even done more than kiss him, which makes her feel like she’s 15 again - he was only in her bed right now because she hadn’t been able to face the idea of being alone last night. He doesn’t move away though, so she lets her fingers continue on their path, brushing a stray curl from his temple and then curling them into his hair just above his ear. Being this close to him makes her breath catch in her throat, but she’s starting to lean into it. 

She lets the feeling envelop her, and she can tell from the way Sousa’s lips curve up into a small, natural smile that he can feel it too. Her hand falls down to his jaw, thumb tracing across his cheekbone, and he watches her. She bites her lip gently, hit by an unexpected wave of emotion, the lump in her throat forcing her to swallow before she can whisper the words she wants to - “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  
  


Does she mean  _ here _ , in her bed, or here with her in the twenty-first century? He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter though, because his answer would be the same either way. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

He is. 

Even on the days when he feels out of place, even when the things he has lost seem to wildly outbalance the things he has gained, even during the moments when the bright lights and incomprehensible technology and unfamiliar lifestyles overwhelm him, he’s grateful to be here.

Something flickers in Daisy’s eyes and it’s gone before he has the chance to register it, but it reminds him of things he wanted to say. “Daisy,” he says quietly, pushing himself up so he’s sitting opposite her, close enough to catch her apprehension. He thinks about taking her hand to reassure her, but hesitates. She finds it anyway, slipping her fingers into his. He doesn’t know how to word his suggestion, but she waits for him and he exhales slowly, hoping she won’t pull away. “You should talk to someone on the team,” he says quietly, thumb running over her skin. “Because I can’t understand. I haven’t been through what you’ve all been through together.”

She swallows and nods, eyes fixed on their joined hands. 

  
  


He can’t reassure her that things will be okay if - when - the team go their separate ways, that’s what he’s telling her. He can only speak for himself.  _ I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere. _

“I will eventually,” she says quietly. It’s the best she can do. It’s easier trying to accept that the team is moving on without also struggling with the idea of him leaving too, but even so, it’s hard to think about losing them. Even though in this case losing them just means that they’re moving onto different stages of their lives. Out of all the ways she’s lost them before, this is by far the best one - at least everyone will be okay, even if they’re not a part of her everyday life. 

And at least Sousa’s sticking around. 

He  _ is _ sticking around… he is. 

Daisy swallows, and Sousa frowns slightly, already apologetic for being the one to bring this back up. Daisy shakes her head before he can speak, squeezing his hands. The way he’s looking at her should be enough, the way he’s here for her should be enough, and it almost, almost is. But she still wants to hear him say it once more. She wants to see his gentle smile as he speaks, she wants to see the truth in his eyes, she wants to trust his words this time.

“You’re sticking around, right?” she asks, lips curling up into a smile.

The sparkle in Sousa’s eyes lets her know instantly that he’s aware she’s teasing this time. Mostly, at least. But he humours her anyway, repeating the words he’d said the night before, telling her exactly what she wants to hear. “I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
